There are many

Who have left nameless watery spots behind

While passing through my mental eye

Androgynous and featureless bringing to mind

Unfortunate shadows misshapened by night

Skimming the torrid waves of day-to-day

They breeze by on vacation, leaving

Muted ricochets of things they say

The spicy hints of greasy sweat

The tingling shrapnel of aftershave, perhaps

Crystalline beads of saliva poised midair

So at every transient time or place


That they were there